The Daughter of Anderson Crow eBook

Anderson Crow’s heart was inside the charmed
inclosure, but his person was elsewhere. Simultaneously,
with the beginning of the performance of “As
You like It,” he was in his own barn-loft confronting
Andrew Gregory and the five bewhiskered assistants
from New York City. Gregory had met the detectives
at the Inn and had guided them to the marshal’s
barn, where final instructions were to be given.
For half an hour the party discussed plans with Anderson
Crow, speaking in low, mysterious tones that rang
in the marshal’s ears to his dying day.

“We’ve located those fellows,” asserted
Mr. Gregory firmly. “There can be no mistake.
They are already in the audience over there, and at
a signal will set to work to hold up the whole crowd.
We must get the drop on them, Mr. Crow, Don’t
do that! You don’t need a disguise.
Keep those yellow whiskers in your pocket. The
rest of us will wear disguises. These men came
here disguised because the robbers would be onto them
in a minute if they didn’t. They know every
detective’s face in the land. If it were
not for these beards and wigs they’d have spotted
Pinkerton’s men long ago. Now, you know
your part in the affair, don’t you?”

“Then we’re ready to proceed. It
takes a little nerve, that’s all, but we’ll
soon have those robbers just where we want them,”
said Andrew Gregory.

The second act of the play was fairly well under way
when Orlando, in the “green room,” remarked
to the stage director:

“What’s that old rube doing back here,
Ramsay? Why, hang it, man, he’s carrying
a couple of guns. Is this a hold-up?” At
the same instant Rosalind and two of the women came
rushing from their dressing tent, alarmed and indignant.
Miss Marmaduke, her eyes blazing, confronted the stage
director.

“What does this mean, Mr. Ramsay?” she
cried. “That old man ordered us out of
our dressing-room at the point of a revolver, and—­see!
There he is now doing the same to the men.”

It was true. Anderson Crow, with a brace of horse
pistols, was driving the players toward the centre
of the stage. In a tremulous voice he commanded
them to remain there and take the consequences.
A moment later the marshal of Tinkletown strode into
the limelight with his arsenal, facing an astonished
and temporarily amused audience. His voice, pitched
high with excitement, reached to the remotest corners
of the inclosure. Behind him the players were
looking on, open-mouthed and bewildered. To them
he loomed up as the long-dreaded constable detailed
to attach their personal effects. The audience,
if at first it laughed at him as a joke, soon changed
its view. Commotion followed his opening speech.

CHAPTER XXXII

The Luck of Anderson Crow

“Don’t anybody attempt to leave this tent!”
commanded Mr. Crow, standing bravely forth with his
levelled revolvers. The orchestra made itself
as small as possible, for one of the guns wavered
dangerously. “Don’t be alarmed, ladies
and gentlemen. The train robbers are among you.”